My father was a policeman
And *he* had a friend who worked in Maintenance on the Tube. As is well known, every so often some businessman or other will snap under the pressure of owning all those Jags and houses and jump under a train. The little-heard aspect of the story is that someone has to clean up the resulting mess. It is the 1970s and my father's mate is one of these people.

After shutting down the Tube station, he and his team are merrily cleaning away, picking up arms and legs, bits of torso etc. There were a few mops and buckets and stuff.

They couldn't find the guy's head. Anywhere.

"Somebody's going to have to go up the dark, echoey, badly lit tunnel with all the trains rumbling through it creating a suitably hellish environment in order to find a grisly, bload-soaked, disembodied head, probably frozen in a grim rictus of pain and terror," were one man's paraphrased words (well, it was Halloween yesterday, bugger off).

My father's mate drew the short straw. Off he wanders with a torch. An hour goes past. His mates start to worry and wonder if they're going have to do another clean-up operation somewhere in the tunnel network. They are just about to send somebody to a phone to shut down the tunnel when they see the bobbing light of a torch and the sound of whistling.

My dad's mate comes strolling out of the tunnel with the head held carelessly by the hair. He then flicks it up and drops it, bringing his foot up in a wonderfully executed drop kick. Aimed straight at the guy who suggested drawing straws. Who screamed and threw up.

Not quite a dare really, but a suitable story for the time of year. Dad told me that his mate's foot hurt for two days after that. Heads are heavy.
( Kroney, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 11:03, 3 replies)

Blimey!
I had to chuckle when reading that :) Well written and amusing
( LemonEntryMyDearWatson This time, Moriarty, the hand is on the other foot, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 11:58, closed)

this is
genius. absolute genius
(Clashrock is being stalked by his brother on, Fri 2 Nov 2007, 12:35, closed)

Re: Jumpers
I know someone who used to drive tube trains.


He said that the first jumper, a woman, looked him in the eye before disappearing underneath the cab. He was pretty shook up and was off for a week afterwards.

The next time, he never even knew it had happened until he was told not to move the train as a man had jumped in front of it. Another bout of sick leave followed.

The third time was just like the first, only with a male Jumper. This extra paid holiday lark was a bit of alright.

Then, one day as he approached the station, he saw a potential Jumper.
"C'mon, c'mon you fucker! I want the holiday so fucking well jump!" He exclaimed.

The bloke wouldn't oblige him so he was thwarted in his plans on how to spend that lovely time off. However, the unexpected bloodlust made him reconsider the job so he quit.
(Fanta Menace Is tall enough to see over the fence, Sat 3 Nov 2007, 11:26, closed)